All I want for Christmas is You.

On a plate. Starving, writhing, begging me to spare you. All I want for Christmas is to bite you, get a little taste of you. But honestly, it'd be better if I left you for the vultures. Not even my dog could stomach a rotten egg like you.

They say the fruit of patience is sweet. They aren't wrong. It is so delicious, especially when you're full to the brim of it! Resentment, hatred, vengeance... Building up like red, hot lava beneath that cool exterior.

"She's so chill!" They say.

That's why they or rather you my dear, will never see me coming! Right now, I must be one of the shadows that lurk at the back of your mind, never truly coming forth because of how hard you try to keep me at bay; keep me from engulfing you in the very darkness you sowed in me. You really shouldn't have done that.

Because now you'll pay for it.

One day, the truth will come boiling to the surface and when that happens, you'll be done for. The best part is that no matter how hard you try to smear me, I won't care. I'll be past caring at that point. What I will relish however, will be your ruin and your misery. So, my dearest enemy, watch your back! What goes around, comes around.